was soon found in a drawer in the same room; the
Queen's she brought in a moment from another room.

Mr. Hanlon picked up from the floor, where he had previously laid it, a
small canvas bag, and placed it on the table under the candle. All of
the empty hour-glasses he placed upon the table, and unscrewed the part
of each by which it was designed to receive its load of sand. He lifted
his bag, and out of it poured into each glass a quantity of fine white
sand. "A little more or less won't matter a mite," said he, when he had
filled them all. "A foine time I've had getting the sand, 'tis sure, but
it's the true article, straight from the hand of the old crayture
himself, and 'tis him we're going to this very minute, and the young lad
with us. By the sand in the hour-glasses we'll get back to the old
crayture in one-tinth the time it took me to find him without it, and by
the same we'll get him to save for us the poor lad's life, or me name's
not Michael."

Each now took his hour-glass in his hand. They were the same
hour-glasses they had bought of Shiraz the Persian, and the sand which
was now in them was the same sort of fine white sand which had been in
them before their ordeal in the fire.

Mr. Punch and Mr. Toby lifted the sick youth from his chair, and carried
him between them, in a sitting position, towards the door. Mr. Hanlon
looked at him anxiously, and commanded haste.

In a moment the whole party were in the hall, and in a few moments more
they were crossing the lawn towards King's Tower. It was a clear night,
and the sky was spangled with stars.

Mr. Hanlon opened the door of the Tower, and when they were all within
closed it again.

"Madam and gintlemen," said he, "we are going to the top of the Tower. I
have been there meself; and there's wan at the top who can bring back
our young frind to life, if he's a mind to do it."

"Oh!" gasped the Queen in terror. "I must not go to the top of this
tower. Ah!" she stopped suddenly and went on in a determined voice. "I
will, though. If it is to be, then it must be. Our young Chevalier came
here for me, and I will go with him! If my strength holds out, I will go
even to the top of the Tower, whatever evil may befall me there!"

"'Tis not strength that's needed, madam," said Mr. Hanlon, "for the old
crayture that give me the sand was willing to help us up to him, and the
sand will make the travellin' easy, or else the old haythen has much
desayved me. 'Twas all